


all is fair

by jasminemai



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 23:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13691751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasminemai/pseuds/jasminemai
Summary: When Oliver Queen returns from the dead, Felicity realises that the boy who changed her life seventeen years ago is about to change her life all over again.





	1. Chapter 1

She’s running between three different departments when her assistant tracks her down and says her brother wants to talk to her. It’s typical Tommy, really, to need her attention on the busiest day of her life. Which is perhaps a slight exaggeration because she remembers what finals week had been like her senior year of college and the subsequent world wide trip Tommy had insisted on basically the moment she was handed her diploma and allowed her mother and Malcom to snap pictures till their hearts had been content.

But that’s totally not the point.

She considers getting Jerry to tell Tommy to leave her alone until her work day had ended, but decides against it because they all know that the end of her work day won’t be until she passes out in the loft with a glass of wine beside her as she studies the newest round of business proposals she’d received as a result of her latest speech at a tech conference in Gotham. So she knows for a fact that that won’t work and that leaving Tommy bursting with news for any longer than an hour would potentially cause him physical harm.

So, in the interest of getting her work done and ensuring her brothers head doesn’t explode, she tells Jerry to tell Tommy that she’ll call him back in no less the forty-five minutes. She’s still got meetings with half the IT department and a conference call with the QC lawyers because of the Unidac Industries bid, possibly in that order. But first she needs coffee so almost as soon as Jerry’s out of ear and eyeshot, she stalks to the IT department breakroom in the hopes of finding anything that caffeine.

She’s only mildly annoyed that when she finally arrives the tiny break room is packed with a third of the IT department crowding around the TV set up on the wall.

“Oliver Queen is alive.” She’s sure that there’s more to the breaking news broadcast but the moment she hears those words, she feels her whole world fade away. Suddenly she was eighteen and staring at her phone on the floor, Malcom’s voice drowned out by the pounding in her ears as his words repeat over and over in her head.

_“The Queens Gambit went down in a storm. There were no survivors.”_

Suddenly she’s standing next to Tommy, dressed in black, Thea clutching her hand as they lower two empty caskets into the ground in a joint funeral for Robert and Oliver.

Then she’s at Sara’s funeral, Laurel sobbing in the arms of her father while she and Tommy stand off to the side, unsure of their places at this particular funeral.

She shakes her head just as Jerry reappears at her side. Her phone in his hand a tight smile across his face.

“Ms. Smoak, Mr. Steele has cancelled the rest of your meetings for today, he said you should go and see Tommy.” Gerry is beside her, his hand placed carefully on her elbow to get her attention but not to startle her. “I’ll move all of your appointments up tomorrow as well, so that you can come in later.” Her assistant pauses for a moment. “Or cancel them, if you’d prefer that.”

At this point she doesn’t really know what she’d prefer. But she doesn’t have the luxury of uncertainty when she realises that people have turned and are staring at her, wondering what her response to the latest news headline is going to be. It’s common knowledge that she has a close relationship with the Queen family, one that extended far beyond the working relationship she had with Walter.

“Tomorrow will be fine, thank you Jerry,” she finally responds, taking her phone and unlocking it, unsurprised to find no less than five missed calls from Tommy and a four from Thea. “I have reports on my desk that need to be faxed to legal. That’s all you need to do before you go home.”

“Of course.” Jerry bobs his head once, scribbling a note on his hand as he turns to walk away from her. She turns as well, walking towards the server rooms where she knows she’ll have the privacy she needs as she realises that she needs to call Tommy.

Bracing herself with a couple of deep breaths, she dials the all too familiar number of her brother.

“I called you five times,” Tommy tells her after exactly half a ring. She almost rolls her eyes.

“I have a job,” she snaps, her confusion and frustration getting the better of her. “Have you been waiting by the phone?”

“Is that a problem?” Although his tone lacks defensiveness, she can tell that he’s annoyed.

“Just comes off a little desperate.” Tommy lets out a sigh of annoyance at her nonchalant response and she remembers that when it comes to billionaire playboys like her brother, during high stress times she can’t resort to sarcasm. “Sorry. Tell me what you know.”

“Well, they found him last week and he called Moira, but she didn’t want to say anything unless he was an imposter. He spent a few days in Hong Kong being checked over by doctors and, the US consulate had to verify his story before they brought him back stateside, and now he’s here in Starling. He’s being released today and Moira wants to have a family dinner so of course, I called ahead and asked if it would be okay for us to stop by. Moira says its fine.”

Felicity, who had been nodding along with her brother’s info dump frowned when she realised what her brother had been implying.

“Tommy what if I had plans!” She exclaims harshly before reigning in her temper. “Or if I wanted to sleep.” She doesn’t need to tell him that she doesn’t really get much sleep these days, her veins usually still filled with caffeine by the time the clock strikes midnight.

“Oliver’s back from the dead Felicity, you’re plans and sleep can wait,” Tommy tells her dryly. “And you know I mean business when I tell you to put a hold on sleep.”

“We can’t just invite ourselves over for dinner! Especially not when it’s Oliver’s first twenty-four hours home,” she protests, her voice rising an octave or two.

“I just wanted to say hello,” Tommy retorts, annoyance clear in his voice. “Moira was the one that insisted on having us for dinner. And who was I to deny the woman who is like a second mother to the two of us.”

“Tommy, I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” she repeats softly. “We can organise something some other day when he’s had time to settle. He just came back from dead Tommy, we don’t know what he’s been through and crowding him with people is probably not the most recommended course of action.”

She can practically hear Tommy rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. She tries to keep her temper in check when he doesn’t listen to her, so she settles for knowing that she’s right about this, and later being able to throw it back in his face when he replies.

“Well I’ve already said we’re coming so that’s that on that.”

“Tommy!” Her temper did not want to stay in check anymore.

“Hey,” he says defensively, “If I’d asked you would have said no.” He’s not wrong and they both know it. She’d spent to many years learning to be a Merlyn to part from her manners in this particular moment.

“For good reason!”

He chuckles. “Dinner is at 7, pick me up on the way?”

She rolls her eyes and agrees, checking her watch before hanging up on her brother. Today just got a little more interesting.

~~

To say Donna Smoak and Malcom Merlyn were an odd couple would have been a rather large understatement. Donna, with her blonde haired, Vegas girl personality which at times could be incredibly overwhelming compared to Malcom’s more stoic nature had meant that there was never a dull moment in the Smoak/Merlyn household. Right up until Donna had stormed out of the mansion Felicity’s first year at college and demanded he give her a divorce. Although their parents weren’t together, the bond that had developed in the ten years the siblings had lived together never tarnished, a fact that both were incredibly grateful for.

It was that bond and subsequent friendship that allowed Tommy Merlyn to stare at his little sister as she drove them carefully through the wooded area in which both the Queen Mansion and the Merlyn Estate. He never understood why she was so careful when driving around here. They’d both learnt to drive along these roads, and it was a drive they made regularly even now, with neither of them living at the Estate any longer.

“You’re nervous,” he states after they fall into a silence that stretches just a little to long. “Why are you nervous?”

Felicity turns her head slightly to look at him, her lips pursed. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Because we’re exploring such new terrain,” Tommy replies dryly. “You know that the suggested speed limit around that corner is actually just a suggestion. You’re not going to get arrested if you stick to the normal speed limit.

She rolls her eyes as she takes the next corner even slower. “What was that?”

“Felicity,” Tommy groans. “The slower you drive the longer we have to talk about why you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Felicity states as she lowers her foot to the gas a little more. “I just don’t want to be fifth wheeling.”

“Fifth wheeling?”

“Tommy, he was _your_ best friend, he’s Thea’s brother, he’s Moira’s son and Walter’s step-son. And what is he to me? My brothers best friend who I had a slight crush on when I was twelve?” Her words come out in a rush, her checks flushing and her grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly. “See fifth wheeling.”

“You weren’t just my little sister to him, Felicity, we were all friends. Why else did he get you a fake ID to get your nose pierced when you were fifteen,” Tommy has to pause to chuckle at the memory of an incredibly pissed off Malcom finding out that he and Oliver had taken Felicity to get her nose and industrial pierced when they were meant to be showing her around college campuses. “I promise you won’t be a fifth wheel.”

She nods slowly, frown still in place.

“Besides it’s a little too late to turn back now,” Tommy comments as he looks towards the long winding driveway that lead to the Queen Mansion.

~~

“What did I tell you,” an all too familiar voice asks from behind him. “Yachts suck.”

He turns and finds Tommy Merlyn standing in front of him, big beaming grin across his face as he holds his arms up for a hug. He tries to dispel the tension from his shoulders as he steps forward, clapping his friend on the back a few times.

“I’ve miss you buddy,” Tommy tells him as they step away from each other. Giving Oliver the time to study his best friend. Tommy looked good, his taste in clothes hadn’t changed, his hair was the same as it always had been, but there was a confidence in the way he held himself that had changed him, Oliver noticed. “He looks good for a dead man, doesn’t he?”

A small laugh comes from his left, a laugh that he hadn’t thought he’d hear again. He turns slowly again, silently pleading with the powers at be that it be her. His eyes meet her blue ones, and he’s startled to find two toned glasses framing her eyes, a stark contrast from the girl who had blatantly refused to wear glasses for five and a half years as an act of protest against her mother and step-father.

“I don’t really have anything to compare it to, but Oliver’s never looked bad,” Felicity says, stepping over the threshold. As soon as the words leave her lips her cheeks heat up and the grip she has on the handles of her handbag tightens so that her knuckles are white. “I just mean that, you look good. Like Tommy said. I didn’t mean it like you look _attractive_ , not that you don’t look attractive, because you do, and I didn’t mean that either but I just-”

She stops talking, clamping her mouth shut and closing her eyes. Her lips move again silently and he realises that she’s counting down from ten. It was a gesture so _Felicity_ that he almost smiled completely at her.

“Thank you, Felicity,” he tells her sincerely, causing her eyes to snap open and an almost blinding smile to spread across her face. “It’s good to see you.” At his words she freezes again, her eyes going wide and a look of horror appearing on her face.

“I am so sorry,” she tells him urgently. “You just came back from the dead and literally all I’ve done is comment on your appearance! I haven’t even said hello yet!” Tommy’s chuckle turns to full blown laughter as his sister works herself into a fluster. “Don’t you laugh at me Thomas Merlyn!”

“Sorry!” Tommy says as attempts to calm himself down. “I’m good.”

She rolls her eyes again before stepping further into the foyer. Tommy helps her out of her jacket, turning to place both of theirs in the side closest. “First you hijack my night now you’re making fun of me. I should have just stayed at home.”

Oliver feels guilt creep into his stomach as he realises that Felicity hadn’t wanted to be here at the dinner tonight. He tries to say something, but his words stop halfway out his mouth and he ends up gaping in her direction for a few moments. “I’m sorry that you got dragged here.” He prays that she hadn’t noticed the choked way his words had sounded to himself.

“It’s just the usual Merlyn sibling tête-à-tête,” Felicity tells him softly having noticed his discomfort. She places her hand on his arm and squeezes lightly. “I’m glad that I could be here with you all.”

“Someone’s tune has changed since we drove up the drive way,” Tommy snarks from behind them smirking. “I’m going to leave you two to catch up while I find myself a drink.” Tommy practically bolts from the room a spring in his step as he goes in search of Thea or Oliver’s mother.

“He seems happy,” Oliver comments.

“He has his moments,” Felicity replies. “We all have.”

“Thank you for coming,” he says switching the subject easily. One look at Felicity’s face and he can tell she’s grateful for the change in topic. “I know it means a lot to my mom and Thea.”

“Yeah, of course, anything for family.” She tenses the moments the words leave her lips and he stares down at her in surprise. “I was about to ramble on about how I didn’t mean that Tommy and I adopted ourselves into your family but I think that would be a lie because I have weekly lunch dates with your mother and Sunday nights are movie nights with Thea and I see Walter at work every day and we always try and have a coffee together in the morning to swap notes on business things. But we didn’t want to replace you, I swear.”

“You babbled,” he tells her when she stops for air, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed. She blushes harder, her cheeks going from flushed to pink in seconds. “I’m glad you were there for my family when I wasn’t. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

She smiles gratefully at him. “Thank you, that means the world.”

“Felicity?” His mother asks as she descends the stairs. “How lovely to see you!”

Given all that he knows about Felicity’s close relationship with his family now, he shouldn’t have been so surprised at the warmth in his mother’s voice as she greets Felicity. She kisses both of her cheeks quickly, before squeezing her hands softly.

“You look wonderful Moira,” Felicity replies, squeezing his mothers’ hand back in return. “Thank you so much for having Tommy and I over for dinner. We both really appreciate it.”

“Of course! Thank you both very much for coming!” Moira starts to move towards the sitting room across the hall. When she realises that neither Oliver or Felicity are following her, she turns back to look at them expectantly. “Felicity, what are you drinking tonight?”

“Anything red, please,” Felicity replies smiling briefly at Oliver before following after Moira.

“So, Oliver, has Felicity told you that she works for Queen Consolidated?” His mother asks as they enter the room. Walter, Tommy and Thea are already sitting, various drinks in their hands and the moment he enters the room all their eyes turn to him.

He raises his eyebrows at Felicity who ducks her head, horrified the blush from earlier returning to her cheeks. Although the Queens had been hesitant to welcome the Smoak family into the folds of the blue bloods of Starling City at first, Felicity had managed to somehow charm her way into the hearts of the people she met. His father had always said it was her brain, that she had always been the smartest person in the room but never seemed to realise it.

Noticing Felicity’s reaction Moira places a hand on her shoulder a knowing look on her face. “Don’t be bashful, Felicity you should be proud of your accomplishments, especially given your age.”

They’re saved from any further small talk by Raisa appearing in the door way. “Are you ready for dinner, Mrs. Queen?”

Moira hums to herself, turns on her heel and walks into the dining room, leaving everyone else to follow after her, chatter filling the silence as they move between rooms.

“VP,” he mouths to Felicity the moment his mother turns around. “At QC?”

She nods a small, mischievous smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Malcom was _thrilled_.”

“I can imagine.” He replies dryly, thinking back to all the times when Malcom had bragged about Felicity’s brains over dinner or cocktails, and how he’d always declared that of his two children, she would be the one to take over the family business. “I imagine I missed quite a showdown.”

She chuckles quietly, glancing behind her at Tommy who had been chatting with Thea. “You have _no_ idea.”

They take their normal seats at the dinner table. Tommy and Felicity next to each other on one side, Thea and Walter on the other and he and his mother sitting at each end.

“I heard you started the department reviews today, Felicity,” Walter says once everyone has dished up their own food. “How was it?”

Felicity sighs, taking a sip of wine before speaking. “As good as can be expected. I think the algorithm that Gerry and I came up with will help smooth out the process but you really can’t account for human error. And Human Resources aren’t happy that I’m encroaching on their territory, but I’ve arranged for one of their senior officers to come and sit in on the meetings. Just as a preventative measure in case anyone thinks we’re looking to fire.”

“What are those figures looking like so far?” Moira chimes in looking between Walter and Felicity.

“If the productivity rates increase like I’m predicating, we may need to bring more people on, especially if we end up with Unidac Industries,” Felicity replies, setting her wine on the table as she straightens slightly. “I already have a rough idea of the roles we’ll need filled and with the reviews over the next few weeks we should be able to hire leadership positions from within the company but also hire new blood should we need it.”

“I honestly don’t know what half of that means,” Tommy mock whispers to Thea, who nods her head in agreement. Moira shoots him a look and he holds up his hands innocently. “Not all of us have the capacity to deal with problems and numbers and well, business stuff like you Felicity, I mean it wholeheartedly as a compliment.”

Oliver studies his best friend carefully, noting the look of pride in his eyes and the complete sincerity in his voice. Felicity and Tommy had always been close, a bond that could only have been attributed to being forced together every day for five years. Tommy had never been one for outright praise when they had been in school, never wanting to boost Felicity’s ego or put too much pressure on her, but not it seemed that things had shifted between them.

Walter nods approvingly. “I’m glad to hear that, I’ll have Beth call Jerry and schedule some time so we can sit down and review your findings. In the meantime, I know that I’ve put a lot on your plate especially with the Unidac auction coming up, so if there’s anything that you need, Felicity, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“A night off?” Tommy mumbles which earns him a swift elbow in the ribs and a filthy glare from his sister. “Joking! Jeez, settle down.” He flinches away from Felicity again, scowling as she pinches his arm.

“I thought we had a rule,” Moira interrupts the siblings before it turns into all-out war. “No business talk at the table.”

A loaded look is passed between Thea, Felicity and Tommy but Thea simply shakes her head before turning back to her food a thoughtful look on her face. It goes unsaid that Moira had partaken in the discussion, preferring to save that particular argument for another night.

Silence descends the table, the only sounds coming from the clinking of knives and forks meeting china.

“I like hearing about it,” he tells nobody in particular when the silence becomes too much to bear. “I’d like to learn more about the company.”

He obviously surprises everyone by the looks on their faces and would desperately like to down the entire glass of wine in front of him if he didn’t think that it would make him drunk in seconds. He hadn’t had the chance to drink a lot of wine while he’d been away, the drinks of choice were usually whisky or scotch or vodka and if his twenty-seven year old self remembers correctly, wine had a tendency to knock him on his ass after a half glass.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that Oliver,” his mother tells him softly, sharing a loaded look with Walter who merely bows his head in reply. “Don’t worry yourself so soon after getting home.”

“You’ve got a lot of other things to catch up on,” Tommy interrupts. “Like the Super Bowl! Colts, Giants, Steelers, Saints, Packers. Oh, and Lost? Turns out they were all dead.”

He doesn’t miss the eye roll Felicity gives her brother. “You’ve watched the complete series like I’ve times, how do you still not understand the plot line?” She asks him completely exasperated.

“It’s confusing for anyone with an IQ lower than yours,” Tommy retorts with only the barest hint of bitterness in his voice. Oliver can tell that he wants to flick Felicity the same way he’s done for years but knows that he won’t.

“That’s not what the internet says,” Felicity replies in her most sing-song voice. “Anyway.” She turns towards him a hint of a smile on her lips before taking another sip of wine.

“What was it like there?” Thea asks bluntly. She’s studying him intently, completely ignoring her food though she hadn’t been eating much before that anyway.

Flashes of his time on the island come back to him and he can feel a wave of tension flowing through his body as he tries his best to focus on the people in front of him and not the ghosts of his past.

“Cold,” he finally answers as softly as he can, but there’s a bite to it and everyone around the table notices.

He must appease Thea because she takes the first bite of her meal and falls silent again.

“I was thinking that since Felicity and Thea have work and school respectively you and me could hit the city, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Tommy tells him in an attempt to clear the tension in the room.

“That sounds wonderful,” Moira exclaims. “I think that would do you the world of good Oliver.”

“I’m sure the doctors would much prefer he rest,” Walter reminds her softly.

“No, I’d like that,” Oliver tells him. “Can’t wait.” He offers his best friend a half smile before pouring himself a glass of water.

Just as he sets the glass of water down, Felicity knocks over her glass of wine, which he scoops up before the red spill to the table. Her eyes are wide as she thanks him softly, and he focuses on her rather then the rest of the people in the room.

“I noticed you had not touched you’re food Mr. Oliver,” Raisa says softly from just behind his left shoulder. “I made you a plate of fruit.” She holds the fine china plate out to him and he sees that she’s got an assortment of fruit for him chopped up already.

“Большое спасибо,” he tells her, accidentally slipping into the tongue of the country he had spent the last year in, unbeknownst to his family.

Raisa simply nods, not commenting before disappearing back into the kitchen. He glances around him to see shock written across all of his families faces.

“Dude! Since when did you speak Russian?” Tommy exclaims finally, breaking the silence that had befallen the table.

“I didn’t know you took Russian in college, Oliver,” Walter says cautiously.

“I didn’t know you wanted to sleep with my mother, Walter,” his statement lacks any real venom, although he’s made his point if his mothers eyes widening are anything to go by. Immediately all eyes turn to Thea who raises her hands in defence. “Thea didn’t tell me.”

“We presumed that your father had died aboard the Queen’s Gambit,” Walter finally says.

“Nothing untoward happened between us Oliver,” Moira cuts in, her eyes filled with some emotion that Oliver can’t quite determine. “But Walter and I are married now.”

Silence falls around the room again and Oliver tries to not be thrown back to his father’s last moments. As he’s thinking his gaze falls to Felicity, who is staring at the glass of wine in her hand rather intently. He remembers that she had liked red wine the most out of all the drinks he and Tommy had made her try. He brushes the thought away as her eyes finally rise to meet his and she very subtly inclines her head towards his mother and new step-father.

“Congratulations,” he offers his mother, understanding the silent message Felicity had sent him. “I’m happy as long as you’re happy.”

“Thank you sweetheart,” Moira tells him, her eyes watering as she takes Walter’s hand. Walter also smiles gratefully in his direction as silence falls around the table once again.             

“Walter, I just remembered that I had a phone call from Star Labs today and they were interested in setting up a meeting regarding the particle accelerator that they’re building. I told them I would have to talk it over with the board first, but I figured I’d better run it past you before I even got that fair.” Felicity’s talking a mile a minute, her hands moving as quickly as she’s talking, effortlessly shifting the focus from him to her in under a second.

“Isn’t that thing going to destroy the world?” Thea asks, completely confused.

Felicity shakes her head. “That’s just what all the conservative people say. In reality it’ll help us understand the world better.”

“Hang on, I read this as well, and there was this big protest about it in Central City,” Tommy interrupts equally confused.

“Okay,” Felicity admits when she realises that Tommy and Thea are staring at her with completely horrified faces. “So technically it could hypothetically cause the world to end, but that’s like a one in one hundred billion chance of happening.”

“One hundred billion?” Tommy asks sceptically as his face contorts while he tries to calculate the amount of zeroes involved.

“When you go to MIT and graduate suma cum laude with an MBA on top, you can lecture me about numbers,” she snaps. “I’m not saying that I want to go into business with Star Labs. Harrison Wells gives me the creeps. All I’m interested in is talking to them about the their latest projects because people who work at Star Labs are smart and I like talking to smart people.”

Thea scoffs. “Thanks.”

“They won’t tell me to dumb it down for them,” Felicity snarks downing the rest of her glass of wine in one. She opens her mouth as if to continue but Walter cuts in with a practised ease.

“I think Felicity is right,” Walter agrees. “Star Labs is one of the leading laboratories in the country at the moment and we can do nothing but gain knowledge for them. I’ll get it sorted with the board if you want to set up a trip to Central City.”

It’s then that Oliver realises that his must be a semi regular occurrence for his family and best friends. There’s a well practised ease between everyone. Thea, Felicity and Tommy playing children and sniping at each other while his mother and Walter watch and only step in when they know that the other three have taken it one step to far.

Suddenly he feels as though he can’t breathe, like the world is closing in on him and regardless of the deep breaths he’s attempting to take, he can’t make it any bigger. When he’d been planning his return to Starling City he hadn’t thought of what he’d find. He’d been to caught up in his mission, his belief that he would return, cross off all the names on his list and move forward with his life.

He’s only now just beginning to see that he hadn’t factored something incredibly important into his equation.

His family. They’re feelings. The way that the last five years have changed them, in similar ways to how they’ve changed him.

“Can I be excused?” He finds himself asking. All the eyes in the room turn to him. “I suddenly feel very tired.”

Moira nods her assent and before he can tell his legs to work, he’s out of the room and half way up the stairs, his entire body working on autopilot. By the time his breathing is back under control, he’s in his room, wondering exactly what he was supposed to do now.

~~

“Felicity, I have some paperwork that I accidentally brought home with me today, would you be able to go over it with me tonight before you head home?” Walter asks once they’ve finished the dessert that no one really had the heart to enjoy.

“Of course,” she replies automatically. “I have the review outline with me as well in case you wanted to review it before I properly start with everything tomorrow.”

Moira makes a sound of clear disapproval but doesn’t protest. “I suppose we should all move into the sitting room while those two talk business.”

Felicity folds her napkin up and places it on the table before following Thea into the sitting room.

“You could ditch Walter and have a movie night with me,” the younger girl tells her with a sly smile. “Just like old times.”

“Thea we had a movie night on Saturday,” Felicity tells her rolling her eyes. “And we’ve got a movie night planned for this Saturday night. Old times sake doesn’t apply.”

“But we always have them at your apartment.”

“That’s because I’ve got the better entertainment system,” Felicity replies. “And the DVD’s and we can have Big Belly at my house and not be judged for eating two burgers plus fries and onion rings as well as those extra large thick shakes.”

Thea rolls her eyes and groans upon realising that Felicity is right. “Fine you win.”

“I just have to go out to my car, but I’ll be right back,” Felicity tells her, turning to Tommy who had followed behind her. He nods in reply before taking a seat next to Thea and turning on the TV.

She takes the long way round to the garage preferring to wonder through the Queen gardens then go out through the front door. It had always been Tommy and Oliver’s preferred route when trying to get out of the house whenever they’d been in trouble. When she was old enough, they had taught her all the tricks they knew, hoping to entice the troublemaker out of her. It hadn’t worked and instead of making her break the rules, she made the two boys more rules to follow. Despite their protests they followed them to the letter.

An overwhelming feeling of sadness took over her body as she thought of those days, playing in the gardens without a care in the world. Now, Tommy was worried that he’d say the wrong thing to Oliver and set off a mental breakdown, Oliver was only talking a few words at a time, and Thea looked as lost as she did in the weeks after the Gambit went down.

That wasn’t even taking into consideration her own feelings on the subject. She and Oliver had always been close. Always as friends, but towards the end, before he’d gotten on the Gambit, while he’d still been going to Harvard, she thought there was something more. They’d spent more than a few nights sitting on the roof of her Malcom approved and paid for unit, passing bottles of home brew between them as they tried to spot the stars even with the light pollution of a main city.

“What are you doing out here?” She startles at the voice breaking the soundless night, her keys and phone clattering to the pebbled path. “Sorry.”

She turns around slowly, coming face to face with the object of her thoughts. “I’m going to my car. What are you doing out here?”

“I missed the gardens,” Oliver says carefully. She doesn’t doubt that it’s true, but she knows him and he’s got that look in his eye he gets whenever he played poker. “And I couldn’t sleep.”

She studies him carefully in the dim light, and comes to the realisation that he’s not lying now and that he’s slightly embarrassed that she caught him out on his little fib. “Walk me the rest of the way?” She asks bending to collect her phone and key before holding out her arm so that he can link his with hers, just as they had done a million times before.

“Sure,” he agrees, taking her arm. They fall into a companionable silence wandering the twisting path that led to the soft lights of the garage. “Thank you for tonight.” She glances up at him with a furrowed brow. “For getting the attention off of me during dinner.”

She smiles as a series of memories of dinners like the ones they’d had tonight flood her mind. “I think it must be a habit now.”

“Years of experience,” Oliver agrees, laughter in his tone. “I suppose things haven’t changed between Malcom and Tommy?”

“They’re only slightly warmer now that I’ve gone and become VP at QC,” she tells him with a shrug. “Malcom was furious, of course, but I never wanted to work for him and QC has projects I’m actually interested in.”

“Vice President huh?” He asks, his voice cautious now. “What exactly do you do?”

“I basically do everything,” she tells him in the vaguest way possible. “Specifically, stuff with technology.”

“Right,” Oliver replies unimpressed. “You gotta give me more than that.”

She chuckles to herself. “Well, I’m the go between for a bunch of different departments. It’s partly my job to oversee that they’re all working together, and working effectively. And to bring on board any and all new tech developments. I don’t really know, I just read the paper work, sign the paper work and make sure that all my employees are doing their job correctly.”

“Sounds tough.”

She sighs. “It has its moments.”

“But you like it?”

“I love it.”

They walk in silence the rest of the way before finally coming to the garage where her mini is waiting to be driven round when requested.

“You drive a mini?” He asks her slightly incredulously.

“I bought it when I moved back from Boston,” she tells him as she unlocks the car and climbs in through the back seat to grab her bag. “It’s economical and it was all I could afford at first since Malcom stopped paying for my rent the moment I took the job at QC.”

“Smart,” Oliver concedes. “Kinda suits you.”

She chuckles. “Thanks, I rather like it, if we’re being honest.” She locks the car and holds out her arm again, less surprised when he takes it then she was the first time. “Look, I know you’ve got a on your mind and a lot to think about, and you’re going to take a while to readjust, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He replies, his hand sliding down to slip into hers for a brief second. He pulls away a moment later, a small, barely there smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you.”

Something passes between them but it’s over in a second. “We should head back, I’ve got a lot of work to do before Tommy and I head off.”


	2. Chapter 2

Felicity was having a very good day in case anyone was wondering. Coffee had been waiting on her desk, all the papers she’d requested be signed by her department heads were signed and waiting for her signature before they were taken down to the Legal department and she was on her way out to lunch at the newest sushi place she kept passing on her way to work.

Until her phone buzzes as she waits in line.

“This better be super important, Thomas Merlyn,” she answers bluntly.

“Oliver and I were kidnapped,” Tommy tells her quietly on the other line sounding almost as though he’s drunk. “Can you come pick me up?”

“Can we just back up a sec and- you were kidnapped? From where, Tommy what the hell? You literally went out to lunch with Oliver and you come back kidnapped?” She tries not to let the panic show in her voice but she knows that it’s a long shot.

“I’m at the Queen’s.” The line goes dead before she can grill her brother even more. She sighs deeply, looking at the sushi counter wistfully before backing out of the store back towards QC. Sure a part of her had missed Oliver, but she did not miss his and Tommy’s antics.

She almost decides not to go straight to the Queen’s house, reasoning that the boys would be caught up in statements with the police for the next few hours anyway and her presence would just create more of an audience, something she’s sure Oliver doesn’t need more of.

Then she remembers how quickly those same boys had been by her side when she had needed them her first year of college. Five years may have changed all three of them, but they were basically the three musketeers, and they would never leave another one behind.

When she finally pulls up after speeding through half of the city, she immediately notices the police cruiser parked in the driveway and the Queen’s doorman slash handyman Ivan waiting out the front, standing to attention as though he were in the military.

When she pulls up in front of him, he relaxes and helps her out of the car. “Ms. Felicity, Mr. Tommy told me to be expecting you,” Ivan says as he opens her door for her. “They’re in the main room. Detective Lance is still with them.”

She makes her way inside, smiling at Raisa as she passes and hovers outside just as Lance and his partner start to leave. She almost ducks up the stairs before Lance can see her but she knows that it’s too late when he focuses his attention on her. His brow is furrowed and there’s an air of annoyance when he realises that she’s at the Queen Manor. She knows that look better than most. If she, Tommy and Oliver had been the musketeers, she and Sara had been conjoined twins all through high school. She’d been picked up at parties on more than one occasion by Lance, who proceeded to buy the two girls coffee in order to sober them up then lecture them about they’re drunken choices.

“Shoulda known you’d be here as well,” he grumbles stalking towards her. “Just once it would be nice to see those two get into trouble and you not be here to bail them out.”

“I will take your opinion under advisement, Detective.”

“We’re just leaving. Make sure they don’t get themselves into much more trouble.” He pauses considering his words for a few seconds. “Who am I kidding? Those two have trouble written all over them.

“Have a good night Detective,” she tells him softly, moving past him into the room where she can see Tommy and Oliver both on the couch with Moira and Walter sitting opposite them. Tommy looks like he’s hungover and Oliver’s entire body was wrought with tension, even as he tried to slouch into the couch like Tommy had done. She waits until the front door slams shut before rounding on her brother and Oliver. “You’ve been back less than a day and you’ve already gotten kidnapped? Can either of you stay out of trouble for more than twenty-four hours?”

Oliver holds up his hands in surrender shaking his head while Tommy attempts to splutter out a response. Neither gesture mean much to her.

“It’s not our fault we got kidnapped and rescued by some green hood guy,” Tommy protests half-heartedly.

“What on Earth are you talking about? Green Hood guy? Rescued? Where were you to get kidnapped in the first place?” She blurts out before she can stop herself. What was becoming of her life?

“We were rescued by a man in a green hood,” Oliver explains. “We were in the Glades because I wanted to see Laurel and when we were walking back to the car Tommy and I were hit with a drug that knocked us out.”

“You went to the one of the two people in the world that isn’t glad you’re alive?” She questions but shakes her head because that’s neither here nor there. “That’s not the point.”

“I’m fine, by the way,” Tommy tells her as if he were trying to sink back into the seat he was reclining in further. “Thanks for asking.”

“No problem.”

“Your bedside manner is astonishing, really Felicity,” Tommy continues, irritation clear in his tone. “A little worry might not be misguided.”

“Are you alive?”

Tommy nods.

“Were you injured?”

Another nod.

“Are you going to go on with life doing idiotic things?”

Tommy doesn’t nod again but his mouth snaps shut so she takes it as a victory for now.

“By the way, the police told my father,” Tommy tells her. “My phone is still in the car so when he can’t call me he’s totally going to call you so good luck with that.”

As if on cue her phone starts ringing from inside her handbag. Dread begins to fill Felicity at the thought of having to deal with her former step-father. She rescinds her previous statement of winning her and Tommy’s little battle of wills.   

 “Hello Malcom,” she greets, her tone strained even to her own ears.

“Oh good, one of my children is answering their phones how lovely,” Malcom says the moment she answers. She resists the urge to roll her eyes at his tone, which is both sarcastic and berating. “I assume your brother is alive?”

“You’d assume correctly,” she says tersely. “I’m here with him now, would you like to talk to him?”

“No, that won’t be necessary, I just wanted to confirm that your brother was uninjured and also confirm that you and he are coming to family dinner tomorrow night.”

“I’m busy.”

“Felicity if I had wanted this much attitude, I would have called your brother,” Malcom snaps. She rolls her eyes.

“You just said he wasn’t picking up his phone so I’m not really sure that would have worked out for you?” She can imagine the look of total fury on his face at her words and attitude and she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the thought. “Is there something in particular you wanted?”

“You’ll need to call your mother of course,” Malcom says, voice calmer now than before with a conversational lilt to it as if she didn’t just annoy him as revenge.

“You told mom?” She almost yells.

“No, she found out herself. One of her lunch friends called her about the kidnapping.”

“And she called you?” She’s equal parts exasperated at her mother and frustrated with Malcom.

Malcom laughs smugly. “Well when neither children answer your calls or messages.” He lets the thought hang in the air. “She sounds well.”

“It’s amazing what not being married to you can do for someone,” she snipes.

There’s silence on the line for a moment. Felicity can’t help the smile creeps to her lips, a strange feeling of victory as she finally silences Malcom.

“We’re having dinner tomorrow night at the penthouse, bring Tommy with you. Dinner will be served at seven.” She assumes that he means his penthouse. The line goes dead before she has the chance to protest. She bites back a growl before turning back towards the living room when she almost runs into Oliver and Tommy who are watching her amused.

“I take it we’re having dinner with my father tomorrow,” Tommy tells her then turning to Oliver. “Malcom thinks he can make up for years of neglect by holding semi regular family dinners where Felicity and I drink expensive wine and Malcom rips us to shreds because we’re failures as children.”

“Sounds entertaining,” Oliver replies although his tone gives way to his slight confusion. She doesn’t blame him. The Merlyn-Smoak family could be very confusing at times.

“You know, you should take my place, no one can stay mad at a castaway,” Felicity tells him. “And by that I mean I will literally beg you to go to dinner with Tommy in my place.”

Oliver shakes his head holding up his hands. “No way. I am not getting involved in your family drama.” She pouts, looking between Tommy and Oliver. “Don’t even try, Felicity.”

Groaning she thrusts her phone into Tommy’s hands. “Fine, but you’ve gotta call my mom and reassure her that you’re not dead, dying or somehow injured.”

“Wait, hang on, why is this on me now?” Tommy protests, trying to pass it back to Felicity but she ducks out of the way, so that she’s partially guarded by Oliver. “Don’t use my best friend as a bodyguard! And how come Oliver doesn’t have to deal with Donna? He was literally dead until a week ago.”

“He’s bigger than you,” Felicity says rather petulantly. “Besides, you’re the one that got kidnapped so you’re the one that gets to deal with the hysterical mother. And mom is trying to be tactful about Oliver, he only just returned from the dead. After five years.”

“She’s probably working,” Tommy tells her dismissively.

“Leave her a message.”

“Felicity she’s-”

“Going to be worried sick,” she finishes for him. “All the more reason to call.”

“I hate you.”

“Go get kidnapped again then,” she retorts. With a breath she looks at her watch, slightly horrified that it’s getting so late. “Are you ready to go? I need to pack for my trip to Central City now that my evening plans tomorrow night have been hijacked.”

“Wait why are you going to Central City?” Tommy asks as Oliver turns around fully to look at her. “Are you going to miss Oliver’s welcome back bash that I was going to get you to plan for me?”

“Probably,” she replies shrugging. Tommy gapes at her, his eyes wide.

“But the party.” He says, as if it’s the most important thing in the world. Even after Oliver’s death, Tommy had continued partying but it just wasn’t her scene. It never had been

“Plan it yourself Merlyn I’ve got stuff to do,” she snaps. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, let me grab my things.” Tommy leaves her and Oliver in the foyer. She hears him stomp up the stairs towards Oliver and Thea’s rooms.

“You okay?” She asks softly, placing a hand on his upper arm. “Today must have been crazy for you.”

He smiles softly down at her, covering her hand with his own. “I’ve had worse.”

“But you’re home now so the bad days shouldn’t be bad anymore,” she tells him. He squeezes her hand at her words and offers her a proper smile. “I’m sorry that you had a bad day.”

“You win some you lose some, but I’m optimistic that they’ll get better eventually,” Oliver tells her, his voice soft an so very Oliver of five years ago. In that moment it was so easy to think that the Oliver that had come back from the island was the same man as before, but she knew, deep in her heart that that wasn’t the case.

She feels a fluttering in her stomach at his words, her cheeks reddening as he studies her further. You’re not fifteen years old anymore, she tells herself, get over it.

“I’m glad.”

Neither move for a moment, their eyes locked and small smiles on both of their faces. Another moment. She doesn’t want to let this one go. His hand is warm wrapped around hers, his calloused thumb rubs over her hand, smoothing away the tension she’d felt coiled within her since the moment she’d heard about the kidnapping.

“Thanks so much for the offer, but Felicity and I really should be getting going,” Tommy says as he and Moira walk towards them. Tommy’s carrying her bag and jacket and Walter is hovering behind them. Felicity’s hand drops from Oliver’s arm and he moves slightly so that they’re standing shoulder to shoulder.

“Oh no, Tommy, Felicity, both of you can stay for dinner,” Moira protests. “I wouldn’t feel right sending the both of you away, not after everything that’s happened.”

Tommy shakes his head, taking Moira’s hands in his. “I feel like I’ve got a weeks’ worth of grime covering my body that I would really like to wash off before it stains,” Tommy tells her. “But thank you so much for the offer.”

“We have showers here that you can use and I think you’ve still got clothes here as well,” Moira points out. “I don’t mean to be pushy but I would rather have you all here together for at least one night to calm my nerves before letting you off into the real world tomorrow.”

She and Tommy exchange a glance and she knows in that moment that any plans for wine and Netflix had just gone out the window. Moira Queen had always had a knack for emotional blackmail when it came to her children, semi adopted or otherwise. She can see Tommy debating the best way to say know, so she tilts her head to the side with a raised eyebrow. She can see the fight go out of Tommy the moment Moira looks at him completely.

Finally, Tommy sighs, bowing his head. “I would love nothing more than to accept your invitation Moira, but I think it would be best for me to go home with Felicity. I’ve got to call Donna and possibly plan an impromptu trip to Vegas to see her.”

The disappointment is clear on Moira’s face and she can’t help the guilt that bubbles up inside of her.

“Tommy, you said so yourself, mom is probably at work still, it wouldn’t hurt her if you didn’t call straight away,” she intercedes. “I’ve got your spare set of clothes still in my car from when we went camping if you wanted those to change into.”

Tommy sighs finally, rubbing a hand over the top of his head, musing his hair even more than it already is. “Dinner sounds lovely Moira, thank you for the invitation.”

“Lovely, I’ll let Raisa know. We’ll make it an early dinner, that way you can all go to bed early.” Before anyone has the chance to reply Moira is walking off towards the kitchen, her heels clicking on the floorboards behind her until the kitchen door clicks shut.

“Seriously?” Tommy exclaims rounding on Felicity. “Is this payback for last night?”

“Did you see her face?” Felicity replies waving her hand in Moira’s direction. “It’s one dinner. You can shower here and then once dinner is over we can drive home.”

“That means three family dinners in a row Felicity. We’re not the type of people who do three family dinners in a row!” Tommy exclaims also waving his hands around. “Aren’t you packing tonight?”

“It’ll be fine.”

“You’re such a sucker for the mom eyes, Felicity,” Tommy complains. “She can go toe to toe with Malcom Merlyn, but Moira Queen turns her mom eyes on Felicity and she caves almost instantly.”

“Tommy it’s dinner, a meal we all need to eat. I know that I’m starving, I can’t imagine how you feel considering you still look like you’re on the come down after a boozy night out in Coast City,” she can’t help but roll her eyes at her brothers’ foolishness. “Now, go upstairs and shower and I’ll go get you a change of clothes.”

Realising that he can’t talk her out of dinner, Tommy groans once more before making his way up the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver says once Tommy’s safely upstairs. “That he was with me.”

She brushes off his attempt at an apology. “You just got back Oliver, if you had thought he’d be anywhere else but by your side getting you into trouble, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

“I’m sorry, for the record,” Oliver tells her. “I guess I just feel guilty. I was the one that wanted to go to the Glades after all.”

“Oliver people wanted to kidnap you, it wouldn’t have mattered if you were in Downtown Starling or near QC, if they wanted you, they would have gotten to you one way or another,” she says.

“Thank you, Felicity.” He squeezes her hand one more time before he follows his mother out to the kitchen. 

~~

She doesn’t mean to slam her front door in his face when he appears at her apartment five hours later but she does and she really doesn’t regret it. She’s pissed. And slightly tipsy because she really likes red wine especially when people return from the dead and start making her life far more difficult than it needed to be.

Not that she’s disappointed that she didn’t get to do her speech, because the nerves would have been her undoing. She’s more upset about his mom and Thea, who had looked equal parts heartbroken and disappointed in his behaviour.

“Come on Felicity, just let me in,” Oliver begs through the door. He’s banging on the glass panelling as she watches from her kitchen bench, glass of red nice and full resting on the top of her thigh. “I’ll break down the door!”

“Bulletproof glass dumbass.” She replies haughtily. “And don’t even try and pick the locks because the locks are controlled by me.”

“Or you could just let me in?”

Jumping down from the counter she stalks over the door hands planted firmly on her hips and she’s thrown back too many instances in her childhood where she would have stomped her foot in aggravation. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I want to talk to you?” It comes out more as a question than a statement and she can’t help the eye roll that follows. “And apologise for being an ass today.” He pauses for as second, as though he’s testing the waters to see how far he can push her before she calls the police or his mother.

“You didn’t just make a fool out of me, you made a fool of the entire damn company not to mention your mom and Thea!” She doesn’t know why she decides that yelling through the door is going to help but she’s willing to blame it on the wine still in her hand. What she doesn’t count on is her hand reaching out of its own accord to pull the door open again, peering up at the man that towers over her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers softly, moving towards her and out of the hallway. “I got carried away with the free champagne.”

She wants to slap him. She doesn’t but the record should show that her hand twitched if it wasn’t for the monumental amount of self control she possessed, Oliver Queen would have a bright pink handprint on his cheek. Not that he wouldn’t deserve if of course, but that was neither here nor there.

“I’ve seen you drunk Oliver, I’ve driven your drunken ass home on more than one occasion. I have literally flown across the country in order to get your drunken ass into a bed before you peed on another cop or found yourself in jail for solicitation. So don’t for a second think that I believe you were drunk when you were on that platform.”

He runs his hands over his face in resignation. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugs, chugging another sip of wine before continuing. “Yelling at you made it all better.”

He follows her to the couch she’s thrown herself onto, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Really? That’s all it took?”

“Well I was going to yell some more but I think you mom will have that handled when you finally make your way back to the mansion,” she reaches over and grabs her bottle of wine. “But I mean, at least you didn’t try and pass your drunkenness off as having a lowered alcohol limit because of the island.”

He tenses for a second next to her, his eyes closing off, as though he’s remembering something and she curses her inability to make small talk once again. But as suddenly as he’s closed off, he relaxes, almost sinking into the couch next to her. “I don’t like to talk about the island with people Felicity,” he tells her softly, his hand reaching out as if to touch her but stopping and resting on the back of the couch.

“I know, and that’s totally fine-”

“But I want to tell you.” His words are so soft, so gentle that she almost doesn’t catch them but she sees his lips moving and knows that his words are true and his meaning genuine. “When I came back I didn’t think there would be anyone I wanted to talk to about what happened those five years. But I want to tell you. Why is that?”

She shrugs her shoulders, not ready to trust herself with words just yet. He studies her for a moment before turning his attention to the wine in her hand. He pulls it away and reads the label, his mouth ticking up at the sides as if her beverage choice is funny.

“What happened to the girl who drank shots of tequila with me?” He asks pouring her a glass. “Also what happened to the-”

“Goth wardrobe? I needed a change. Moving back home seemed like the right idea. Especially if I was going to be shadowing Walter,” she explains curling her legs underneath her. “Honestly, I always felt out of place here and being different and looking different, it was my way of making everyone notice, I know this is very self-reflective, but I’ve had a while to think about it. When I came home I knew that I was different, that I was smarter than anyone else, that I could accomplish so much and that it didn’t matter if I didn’t feel like I belonged, not as long as I was doing my thing the way I wanted to be doing it. Does that make sense? This is my third glass of the night.”

“Kinda. Do you feel like you belong yet?”

“I’m working on it.” She pauses, handing her glass to him and watching as he takes a sip. He nods in approval. “I think the fact that I’m actually trying is saying wonders about my emotional growth.”

He chuckles softly handing her back the glass. “Well, I’m glad. I would not have wanted to be on the receiving end of goth Felicity after my stunt that I pulled.”

“Rightly so, she was a firecracker.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s changed about you.”

“You know, you’re probably right.”

They lapse into a brief silence before he faces her completely an expectant look on her face. “Can you tell me a story from while I was away?”

“Wanna hear about my stalker?” She asks with raised eyebrows.

“You’re what?” He chokes out in disbelief. She holds out her wine for him to take a sip out of.

“Buckle up, you’re in for a bumpy ride.”

~~

It’s well into the early hours of the morning by the time he leaves her apartment. She’d fallen asleep as soon as she’d finished her third glass but he’d stayed, tucking her blanket around her before studying the apartment that was appropriately Felicity Smoak. There were bits and pieces of computers littered on almost every surface Oliver could see. And coffee mugs, so many coffee mugs spread. There were a few phot frames from her and Tommy’s high school and college graduation. She had a few prints of some abstract art hanging up, and books. So many books. They filled the entire wall around her entertainment unit.

When Tommy had told him that Felicity had moved into a loft in downtown Starling, Oliver hadn’t been surprised. Even before she’d dyed her hair black at thirteen Oliver knew she was going to live a life different to any of the ones their parents had planned for her. He was happy to be right in this instance, glad that the five years that had passed since he’d last seen her on the docks hadn’t broken her like they’d broken him. Glad that she was happy and settled and living.

For five years that’s all he’d wanted for her.

Which was part of the reason why he’d left a note sitting on the table, underneath the bottle of wine she’d almost polished off herself. Whenever he was around her, he felt lighter than he had in years, that perhaps the past five years hadn’t changed him nearly as much as he thought. He thought that as soon as she’d fallen asleep her lightness would have faded and the darkness he’d felt since being on the island would creep back in and take over again. But it hadn’t.

Watching her sleep, her glasses falling crooked on her nose and her face pressed into her pillow, the lightness and warmth he felt only grew.

“I’m being selfish,” he’d whispered softly to her as he’d been getting ready to leave. “I shouldn’t want you anywhere near me.” She’d stirred for a brief moment, her face nuzzling into his hand, a soft, breathy sight leaving her lips, before she settled again, fast asleep.

He’d run after that. Run down the stairs of her ten story building, out to his bike and then pushed the limits of speed on his bike until he could forget about the light in his life that Felicity Smoak had somehow become.

~~

“What are you doing?” She startles at the sound of Oliver’s voice, slamming her knee straight into her desk causing her eyes to water. “Sorry, I knocked, I promise.”

“Sorry, off in my own little world,” she tells him. “What are you doing here.”

“I asked first,” he replies, eyebrow raised.

“It’s nothing, really, just my imagination getting the better of me.” She glances down at the designs in front of her and he must notice, because he steps further towards her desk.

“What is it?”

“An idea, or like a piece of an idea that hasn’t really fully formed yet because that’s kind of just the way that my mind works, and please don’t mention this to literally anyone because I feel like this might be considered corporate espionage in some cases.” She clamps her lips shut as soon as she doesn’t have any oxygen left in her.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Oliver says eyes twinkling like only his can. Not that she noticed if his eyes twinkled or not, but for the record they are really, really, blue.

She takes a breath to centre herself before looking back up at Oliver. “Now, what is Mr. Queen doing in my office?”

“Mr. Queen was my father,” Oliver tells her with a roll of his eyes and amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, but he’s dead,” she retorts before she can stop herself. “I mean he drowned, but you didn’t, which is why you’re standing here listening to me babble- which will stop in 3-2-1.” She stares up at Oliver in horror, her mouth hanging open before she snaps it shut. “What can I do for you?”

He holds out a laptop. “I spilt a latte.”

“Really?” She asks incredulously. Her fingers trace over the dents in the casing. Oliver gives her a curt nod his lips pressed firmly together. “These look like bullet holes.”

“My coffee shop is in a bad neighbourhood.”

“Right. Well.” She studies the laptop for a moment as she gathers her thoughts. She knew Oliver was lying. And Oliver knew that she knew he was lying. But he didn’t seem to care? She clears her head of her Oliver problems and concentrates on the laptop problems. “The bullets only pierced the case, so the hard-drive should be okay.”

“How long will it take?”

“You do realise I’m incredibly busy right now?” She waves a hand at her desk which has three experiment proposals, the Legal department forms for a meeting she had tomorrow and the rest of the paperwork for the auction in a few days.

“Felicity.”

She glares at him as she works her annoyance at being dismissed clear across her features. “Enough time for you to go and get me a cronut and a coffee.”

“What’s a cronut?” Oliver asks, absolute confusion written across his face.

“Heaven on Earth in the form of a croissant-donut hybrid,” she answers as she sets up the laptop on her desk, pushing aside all the other paperwork.

She doesn’t have to look up to know that Oliver’s frowning in slight disgust never having been one for pastries or sweet things before the island. “And you want one.”

“Mhmm, I don’t work for free you know.”

“Not even for a castaway?”

“Especially then.”

~~

He doesn’t see her again until the night of the Unidac Industries auction. He’d bought her a cronut the day before, but that had been a brief meeting where she’d warned him about stealing people’s things when he’d stumbled his way through excuse after excuse as to why the laptop he’d told her belonged to him. In true form, she hadn’t believed him but had gone along with his lies without too much complaint.

“Ollie!” Thea calls from where she’s standing with his mother and Walter. He moves over towards them, a forced smile on his face. “We didn’t think you’d come.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

His mother hands him a flute of champagne before turning to Walter.

“Felicity will be here, won’t she? You haven’t worked her into the ground?” His mothers voice is tense and disapproving, the same voice she’d used on him every time he broke his curfew when he was younger, or now, when she caught him coming home from a late night out in the Glades. “Because that girl doesn’t have an off switch and we all know she’d rather work herself to the point of exhaustion than tell anyone that she needs help.”

“Who needs help?” He turns the moment she starts to speak, his eyes widening as he takes in the way her hair falls over one shoulder and the way the emerald knee length dress clings to Felicity’s body. “Evening Queens.”

“Felicity, you look stunning,” his mother tells her moving past him and Thea to kiss both cheeks quickly. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“And miss the result of all my hard work?” Felicity jokes, pulling Thea into a one armed hug. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine, mom dragged me out.”

“I’m almost hurt that you didn’t want to spend the night with me,” Felicity tells her with a nudge of her hip before holding out her hand for Walter to shake.

“I’m glad to see our conversation with Detective Lance hasn’t put you off tonight,” Walter says.

“No place I’d rather be.”

She turns slightly so that she’s facing him, a beaming smile on her face. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“That seems to be the sentiment of tonight,” he replies softly. He leans forward at the same time that she does, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back where he’s met with bare skin. He tries to not let his mind stray to far on that particular topic, instead brushing his lips across her cheek. “Hi.”

“Hey yourself,” she replies, her voice soft and the grip on her arm tight. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“No place I’d rather be,” he replies, echoing her own words, a small smile appearing at the pink flush that spread across her cheeks and necks.

A flash of red behind Felicity’s head catches his attention and he instinctively pulls her to her the ground as one of the windows above them shatters and a waiter drops to the ground from a bullet to the head. He can hear the screaming coming from everywhere around him as another bullet shatters another pane of glass.

“You need to get out,” Oliver tells Felicity helping her into a crouch. She looks dazed and confused and her eyes are a little unfocused. “Get my mom and Thea and Walter and get them out of the building. Felicity!”

She nods mutely, looking around for Thea when a third bullet hits a man in his chest and she gasps, tears springing into her eyes.

“Oh my god.” Her voice breaks half way through. “Oliver?”

“You need to get out,” he grabs her hands and pulls her up, scanning the room for Thea. “Go wait outside you’ll be safest there.”

“Where are you going?”

“I need to find my mom and Thea, stay out here.” As soon as they clear the exit, he places a quick kiss to her forehead before running back into the building with only one thought on his mind. He had to find Deadshot.

~~

“Stop looking at me like that,” she grumbles, sinking further into the seat as the car heated up. Her body was starting to ache from Oliver throwing her into the ground the moment the bullets had started killing people.

“I’m driving,” Oliver tells her. “I can’t be looking at you if I’m driving.”

“So?” She’s still grumbling, partly because her pride is wounded, mostly because of the aforementioned awfully bad night.

“What do you mean ‘so’? I can’t look at you while I drive,” Oliver repeats slowly, as if she were stupid. Which isn’t far from how she’s feeling right now.

She barely bites back the growl that wants to escape her lips. “Fine then I can feel you thinking about me.”

He doesn’t have the same respect apparently, if the snort he desperately tries to cover up is anything to go by. “You can hear me thinking about you? And what am I thinking?”

“That I’m a mess.” It’s true. Her once nicely styled hair is sitting atop her head in the very definition of a messy bun. Her eye makeup is smudged and her lipstick was wiped off the moment she’d had to kneel in front of a bush to empty the contents of her stomach after she’d accidentally looked back and saw the waiter who had greeted her lying on his back, blood and body matter spattered on the wall behind where he’d been standing.

“You look like you’ve been the target of a crazy sniper,” he tells her simply. “It’s okay to not be alright.”

“I know I look like a mess, but I meant emotionally a mess,” she explains carefully. “I honestly don’t think that my heartrate has dropped below a hundred beats per minute since before that first bullet.”

Oliver just chuckles in response. “You want to know what I was thinking about?” She makes a noise that she supposes could have been a sign of agreement and he continues. “That summer, when we stayed in that little beach side town out of Coast City. Malcom and your mom dropped you and Tommy off before they went travelling, and my dad had a week off of work so he decided that he’d take care of all four of us.”

“That was a good summer,” she interjects, remembering the sun and sand and science of it all. Apart from when she got sunburnt and turned out like a tomato. That hadn’t been fun but she’d dragged the boys into her misery.

“You told me once, that that summer was when you knew you wanted to learn everything about science,” Oliver reminds her. He’s smiling his half smile, an almost twinkle in his eyes, the one that had gotten them in so much trouble. “You wanted to know what sand looked like under the microscope so you made your own. Until we almost burnt the house down and dad decided to just buy you one.”

“I’ve still got it you know,” she says. “It’s in my study area in the loft.”

“Seriously?” Oliver asks, surprised. They both knew that she wasn’t a hoarder. Preferring to replace and refurbish outdated tech when it was past it’s use by date. “It’s been years. It wasn’t even working when you took it to college.”

“It’s special to me.” She can feel the blush rising up to her cheeks. “It was the first time that I felt like I belonged with you guys, in Starling City, with the one percenters. I didn’t want to lose that, not after everything.”

The warmth of the car starts to calm her frayed nerves as she starts to think of Raisa’s hot chocolate waiting for her when they finally arrived back at the Queen mansion.

“Did you keep anything else?” Oliver asks, breaking the silence that had fallen between them briefly. “Because Tommy and I bought you some awesome presents when we were kids.”

“That stuffed panda you and Tommy bought me,” she replies, thinking to her favourite stuffed animal.

Oliver scoffs. “We didn’t buy it for you, we won it fair and square.”

“I distinctly remember you and Tommy spending the entire day running around the fair trying to find someone who would sell it to you because neither of you could actually win me the biggest one-”

“You wouldn’t stop talking about it,” Oliver protests half-heartedly.

“And I also remember that you finally told some stall owner person that you’d give them a hundred dollars if you could just have the biggest panda. Totally over priced for what it was, by the way.”

Oliver rolls his eyes. “You’d think that you’d be a little more grateful considering you’ve still got it and it’s been ten years.”

“I’m not saying I’m not grateful, I just think we need to be honest about how the bear came into my possession in the first place.”

“I’m glad you still have it,” Oliver tells her softly. The mood goes from light-hearted to something undefinable in a matter of seconds. “The fair was a good day too.”

“I always forget the good moments,” she admits. “Between you dying and my mom and Malcom getting divorced I always felt like there was a stain on my childhood. But we had so much fun. We were lucky to have each other.”

“I’m glad that hasn’t changed, even if we have.”

She doesn’t have a response for him and judging from the look on his face, one almost of contentment, he doesn’t expect her to give him one. Resting her head against the head rest, her eyes slip closed as the familiar hum of the car lulls her off to sleep.

~~

She’s wearing his shirt.

It’s the first thing that comes to mind when he sees her sitting cross legged on her bed, a side table pulled right up to the foot where a mug of steaming hot chocolate is waiting for him.

The fact that it’s his old Harvard shirt is the second thing he notices.

And the third this is that she looks better in it than he ever did. But he doesn’t want to dwell on it too much.

“I’ve travelled the world and yet no one makes hot chocolate better than Raisa,” Felicity tells him, bringing him out of his thoughts. “How was Laurel? She looked pissed.”

“She was pissed.”

“Pissed at you or like she’s found herself in the bottom of a bottle again pissed?” Felicity asks him, placing the mug on the table before standing up.

“Pissed at me.” He answers, though he tilts his head in curiosity at the snark behind Felicity’s tone. “You might have to explain the last part of that statement.”

“You should talk to Laurel about that, I shouldn’t have made the comment,” she says.

“Right.” She walks over to her desk and picks up a laptop. “Did you wanna talk about it?”

He studies her carefully, taking in her small frame dwarfed by his large shirt, one he’d given to her years ago after she’d been doused in some form of alcohol at a party he’d taken her too. He’d been drunker than her, so she’d had to babysit him as they stumbled home that night. When they’d gotten back to his apartment she’d gone in search of the shower and he somehow managed to find a shirt and laid it out on the bed for her before finding himself something else to drink.

She’s different now to what she was then. When he’d been at Harvard she’d been all misplaced anger with an overwhelming desire to make the world a better place. Her hair had been black with purple streaks, her eyes rimmed with thick black lines and her nails always chipped and always black.

“I don’t know,” he replies softly, moving to sit on the edge of her bed, picking up the second cup of hot chocolate on the tray. “I mean I do, I just don’t know what to say.”

“Well, when you know what to say,” she tells him as she joins him on the bed, folding her legs under her.

“What about you?” He asks. “Anything you want to talk about? I know tonight must have-”

“The worst night ever?” Felicity interrupts, tears swirling in her eyes. She blinks twice then stares down into her mug. “I don’t know what to say either.”

“Well, when you know what to say,” he replies, echoing her own words. She smiles at him over the top of her mug in return. “I see you raided my wardrobe.”

“I was cold,” she replies softly. “But in fairness, you did give it to me so the argument could be made that it’s technically mine.”

“That’s a fair point.”

“And yours are warmer,” she replies. “They always have been.”

The corners of his mouth twitch up as he remembers all the times he and Tommy had found Felicity curled up somewhere in one of their jackets, even when she had her own, thicker and nicer ones in her closet. “You’ve always said that.”

“It’s always been true,” she repeats. “Where did you go?”

He glances out of her out of the corner of his eye. “What do you mean?”

“Tonight, you were right beside me one minute and the next you were gone and I had no idea where you were or if you were dead, again,” she tells him, her voice monotone. She’s still studying her hands, where he notices that there’s a few cutes on her palms. “When the glass shattered and you pushed me to the floor I cut my hands. It’s totally fine, Detective Lance made sure that the paramedics saw me as soon as they had a spare free moment.”

“That’s good,” Oliver finally says. “I’m sorry that I left.”

Felicity turns to look at him fully, her eyes tiredly curious and questioning. “Can you maybe not do it again?”

“I’ll try my best,” Oliver replies.

“Just don’t make me any promises, because you kind of suck at keeping those,” she tells him. “Now, I was thinking that I won’t be able to sleep for another few hours so we should start catching you up on everything you’ve missed.”

“I’ve read the headlines.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about headlines, I’m talking about movies, music, television shows,” she tells him. “I’m starting with TV shows, because you can binge basically everything on Netflix these days.” She pauses for a moment, her head tilting to the side slightly. “Unless you have somewhere else you need to be and you’re going to run off on me again.”

 "I don't think I have any more plans tonight."

The smile she gives him in return is almost worth leaving her behind earlier. Almost.


	3. Chapter 3

_“You know what, I’m pissed,” she declares to the room, twirling around with her bottle of vodka in hand. Oliver and Tommy are looking up at her expectantly from the floor, bemused expressions on their faces. She curses them in her head. They clearly were not feeling the effects of the alcohol the way she was. Although, she reasons, they did stop drinking when she had declared she wanted to get drunk tonight._

_“You don’t say,” Tommy snarks through a sip of coffee. He’s got a magazine balanced on one knee and his mug of coffee balanced on the other. The pot of coffee is in the middle of him and Oliver, half empty as both boys try and sober up. Which, no fun. Both the boys chuckle a little and she belatedly realises that she probably said that out loud._

_“I meant angry pissed not drunk pissed, although I’m that as well,” she retorts, taking another swig of vodka. It burns her throat but she works through it easily. “And you’re both sober. No fun.”_

_“You don’t say,” Oliver adds jokingly. She reaches out to kick him but he flinches away before the hit lands and she glowers at him. “Sorry.”_

_“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m pissed? Or does that not matter to anyone.” She’s still swirling around, but she doesn’t think she’s going to drink anything anymore. Suddenly she doesn’t feel good._

_Both Tommy and Oliver share a glance before Tommy nods his head slightly. “Felicity, sister mine, why are you pissed?”_

_“Because I’m getting sent away!” Felicity exclaims loudly. “Merlyn wants me to go to England to intern at Merlyn global for the summer. I’m being banished. From the place that I have literally hated for most of my life, but I kind of love now. How’s that for irony.”_

_Both boys eyes widen in shock at her admission, however Tommy masks his shock faster than Oliver can. “In fairness we are awful influences.”_

_“I agree.”_

_“You are both terrible influences but you’re my terrible influences and I wish desperately that we can spend always together,” Felicity declares, throwing herself onto the couch the two boys had been leaning against. Oliver quickly moves the coffee pot out of the way. “I can’t imagine life without you two.”_

_“Well you really don’t have to worry, sis, because it’s not like Oliver and I have a college we have to go to when you get back,” Tommy says softly. He pulls her down to sit between them and throws an arm around her shoulder. “We should throw you a going away party! At our place or Oliver’s, pool party, lots of booze, a theme of your choice. I can picture it now.”_

_Felicity nods in agreement. “I like the sound of that.”_

_“We can plan it in the morning when you’ve got a clear head.”_

_“My head is perfectly clear,” Felicity retorts. “I have all the brains you two have like a little bit of brawn.”_

_“And we both have all the party planning skills,” Tommy adds. “This party is going to be epic.”_

_**_

Oliver finds her two days after the Unidac Industries disaster, a new bodyguard by his side and a rather disgruntled look on both of their faces.

“Hello,” she greets over her coffee mug. “Do you want more tech advice?”

Oliver grants her a small smile but shakes his head. “No, actually I just wanted to see if you wanted to grab lunch with me.”

She glances at the time on her office wall and realises that it’s far later than she’d thought it was. “Sure. As long as it’s Big Belly.” When he raises an eyebrow at her she shrugs. “It’s been a long few days, I need all deep fried fattiness I can get my hands on.”

“Of course. No judgement.” Behind Oliver, the new bodyguard shifts uncomfortably. “Oh, and Felicity, this is Rob, he’s the bodyguard my mother insists on.”

“Two near death experiences in the span of a month, I think your mother may be on to something,” Felicity teases. “Hello Rob. Good luck with him.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Rob replies stiffly. She stifles her laughter at the look Oliver gives her, but gathers her phone and coffee. “I look forward to the challenge.”

Felicity once again stifles a laugh, clearly amused.

“Shall we?”

Oliver nods gently, holding her office door open for her to pass through.

They walk the block to Big Belly in relative silence, causal chatter filling the space between them. Rob stays  behind them both, alert and on guard.

“I was watching the news the other night and I saw this thing about Peter Declan? He murdered his wife in his child’s own room?” Oliver asks softly. “It sounded awful.”

She hums in agreement, trying to remember the details herself. “Wasn’t he sentenced to death?”

“Yeah, Laurel’s taking on his case,” Oliver tells her.

She chuckles under her breath, “Dinah Laurel Lance, always trying to save the world.” Oliver laughs a little with her, his breath brushing over her cheek as he bends his head down towards her. “I had my doubts, and I still do, but I honestly think that she thinks she’s doing the right thing and that’s what’s most important right?” Oliver frowns at her words, picking up the disapproval in her voice. She hadn’t meant to say anything more on the subject of Laurel Lance, however true to form her brain to mouth connection and let her down big time.

“What do you mean?” Oliver asks softly, confusion colouring his tone.

“Forget I said anything,” she replies, shaking her head and stepping away from him slightly.

“Felicity,” he murmurs in the voice that sends shivers down her spine for reasons Felicity does not want to think about. “What did you mean?”

“For the record I think that voice is super unfair,” she blurts before clamping her mouth shut and counting back from three in her head. “But I just meant that Laurel is Laurel, she doesn’t do anything without a reason.”

“That’s not exactly making it any clearer to me, Felicity,” Oliver says, seemingly ignoring her slip, although the slight gleam in his eyes makes her think differently. “The truth please.”

“Laurel was always the person who had a plan, right? She knew what she wanted and she went out and got it,” Oliver nods along with her, moving closer to make up the distance she had created between them. “She wanted you and she got you, she wanted a rebound for you and she slept with Tommy, it all makes sense when you follow the logic like that.”

“So this is you being an overprotective sister?” Oliver checks, one eyebrow raised.

Blood rushes to her cheeks and she ducks her head away from Oliver stepping away again and praying that he doesn’t try to make up the distance. “What else would it be? I don’t want Tommy to get hurt and I think Laurel or what he thinks Laurel is to him will be the thing that breaks his heart.”

“And you think Laurel wants to what, start dating me again after I cheated on her with her sister, took her sister on a yacht trip that killed her?” Oliver replies frustrated.

“Sara wasn’t the only person you cheated on her with Oliver,” she reminds him softly, glad that he’s kept his distance. “I’m sure I know only half of the notches in your bedpost and before you get grumpy I’ve never once judged you for your behaviour, you know that, but if I knew living in Boston then Laurel knew when you were using SCU as your playing fields.”

A flood of emotions appear on Oliver’s face for a brief second, before he shuts himself off to her again. But the glimpse he allows her to see breaks her heart. This was the Oliver she knew. This was the Oliver she wanted to see, not the infernal ‘Ollie’ who cheated and peed on cop cars. The Oliver who wore his heart on his sleeve for all to see as long as you looked close enough.

She had never blamed Sara or Laurel for falling for Oliver. On the outset he was everything a rich prep school boy should have been; charming, charismatic, smart but not stupid, always good for a comeback and the smile that could melt even the strictest librarians heart. But she knew better than almost anyone, that that had always been a shield, an attempt to cover up his heartache over his parents constant fighting, or his frustration that no one seemed to want to listen to what he wanted to do when he grew up, even if he didn’t quite know it himself at the time.

“She never said anything,” Oliver replies, pulling her from her thoughts with a hand at her elbow as she nearly takes out another pedestrian. “In all those fights, she just didn’t say anything.”

“She didn’t want to be the girl that kept taking her cheating boyfriend back,” Felicity replies. “So she thought that if she ignored it than it would go away and things would go back to normal.”

“How do you know that?” Oliver asks. “Are we speaking from personal experience?”

“God no Oliver, I was single up until my last year at MIT and that was a disaster but there wasn’t any cheating involved,” she says. “Laurel’s an open book to read, and anyone could see that she was bothered by what was happening but didn’t want to say it, at least after the first time she confronted you about cheating and it turned out to be a made up excuse for some girl to get into that stupid burn book thing the cheerleaders had. And she accused me of sleeping with you but never actually said anything to you because I’m sure that would have resulted in another trip to Boston on your part to drink crappy beer on my fire escape.”

“Wait, she what?” Oliver freezers completely, causing people to hastily change direction to avoid walking into him. She’d find it hilarious if she hadn’t inadvertently told him that people thought they’d been sleeping together before the Gambit had gone down. “Laurel thought we-”

“She thought we had sex, which I know isn’t true and you know isn’t true but honestly I think she wanted to get mad at someone and apparently it made sense to accuse me, but that was like five and a half years ago now, or something so totally water under the bridge.”

“I’m sorry, Felicity, I didn’t mean to drag you into that,” Oliver tells her, once again stepping into her personal space. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“It’s fine, really,” she assures him. “I’ve had five years to get over it so I’m good.”

Oliver looks unconvinced but nods slightly anyway and offers her his arm so that they can finally get their lunch.

“For the record, this conversation isn’t over.”

**

_The first time Laurel Lance hears rumours about Oliver is in her third period history class, one of the two classes she doesn’t share with either Oliver or Tommy because they had both chosen to do physics with Felicity instead to keep her company._

_“Did you hear, Britt hooked up with Oliver Queen on Saturday night,” a cheerleader two seats away from her whispers to her friend._

_“Isn’t he dating Laurel Lance?”_

_“Apparently it didn’t matter to him, she said it was the best sex she’s had and he can do amazing things with his tongue.”_

_The blood drains from her face and she hands start to shake as she remembers calling Ollie on Friday night asking what his plans for the weekend were. He’d said he was grounded and that he, Felicity and Tommy had a group assignment due and that they needed to work on over the weekend._

_When she pushed further, wondering why he was even bothering he’d snapped at her and told her that although his parents might be rich, he still wanted to get into college off his own merit and he wasn’t about to let Felicity down after she’d spent so long tutoring him._

_She doesn’t hear a word her teacher says for the rest of the class, instead she tries to process what she’s just heard and how it could possibly be true. Deep down she knows it’s true though. Ollie had never been faithful in the past, but usually all cheating is done under the assumption that he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing therefore it was meaningless. Not that they’ve ever talked about it, what with their being the assumed don’t ask don’t tell rule within their relationship. It only takes her a few moments to decide that enough is enough._

_Before she knows it, the bell is ringing and Laurel automatically starts to make her way to the science wing of the building where Ollie will be finishing up his class. She spots the Queen/Merlyn clan almost straight away. Tiny Felicity in her senior uniform that doesn’t quite fit right on someone who was basically a preteen standing between Ollie and Tommy, both of who towered over her by at least a head and a half since apparently Felicity hadn’t had a growth spurt yet._

_“Did you sleep with Britt Calloway on the weekend?” She demands the moment she reaches the trio. Felicity visibly flinches away at her sharp tone and Tommy pulls a face before guiding his sister out of her way. “Because the only think anyone could talk about in history was how good you are with your mouth!”_

_Oliver frowns at her in total confusion before glancing between Tommy and Felicity. “I was at the house with them all weekend, I have no idea what you’re talking about Laurel and can we maybe not talk about this in front of the entire school it’s kind of embarrassing.”_

_“I don’t care if you’re embarrassed Ollie, I’m the one that’s dating the biggest man-whore in school!”_

_Ollie blanches at her words, his eyes going wide before he glances around. “I didn’t do it, Britt must have lied to her friends but like I said, if you want to have this conversation lets do it somewhere else, preferably after school so that we can get to our next class.”_

_“You don’t have another class, Ollie, I helped you plan your schedule for this year. This period is our study period together.”_

_“Actually,” Tommy interjects quickly, although he looks incredibly uncomfortable. “Ms. Marcs called us into her office last week to tell us that both Ollie and I are a few credit short of graduating so she enrolled us in Felicity’s computer program course because she figured Felicity would be able to help us catch up quickly.”_

_“And we should go because this is my favourite class of them all and I don’t want to be late for Mr. Kitchener, he always gives us lollipops if we’re early,” Felicity chimes, stepping forward so she’s standing sort of in between all three of them, while pushing her to big glasses up her nose. Absently, Laurel thinks that Felicity probably should get some new ones if her current ones are causing so much trouble._

_“These are my old ones,” Felicity tells her softly. “Idiot boys thought it would be fun to test some physics theories with my good glasses and they broke.”_

_“You sounded like you were making stuff up Flick, what was I supposed to do?” Tommy groans in exasperation while Ollie nods in agreement._

_“Listen to me, duh!” Felicity exclaims, waving her arms in the air for extra emphasis. “Listening to me will be the smartest thing you do all day.”_

_The topic of the conversation changes and suddenly Ollie, Tommy and Felicity are all making their way down to the computer lab, arguing about the weekend loudly._

_**_

In the aftermath of helping Laurel with her case, Oliver somehow ends up on Felicity’s doorstep again. He’s a type of tired that settles in his bones and his hands are shaking as they clutch at the bottle of wine he’d found in the cellar. But he needs to see her, needs to know that she sees something within him that isn’t awful and brutal and dark. He needs her to be his light in that moment, as selfish as it sounds.

She answers the door in sweat pants and a sports bra, a towel thrown over her shoulder and a water bottle clutched in her hands.

“Hey,” she greets him, surprised. “Whatcha doing here stranger?”

“I bought wine,” he tells her softly, holding the bottle out to her.

She laughs a belly laugh as she steps aside to let him in. “I was going to go to the gym downstairs but I’ve been hoping that something distracts me and I don’t end up going.”

“Glad I can be of service,” he teases, his whole body feeling lighter the moment he steps over the threshold. He hates that it feels so natural, so easy with Felicity. “I’m assuming you already have ice-cream in your freezer?”

Felicity’s cheeks flush a light pink as she bobs her head a few times. “I defected from the family company to work at _your_ family company, I run multiple departments within said company, my stepfather is a complete nut job, my stepbrother Just got kidnaped and my childhood friend has returned from the dead. Of course, I have ice cream in my freezer.”

“Care to share?” He asks softly taking the chance to inspect Felicity’s apartment again. The first time he had come over, he’d been in awe of her loft apartment. The Felicity he remembered still had posters of space camp and the periodic table and her favourite computers pinned to her walls. Her college dorm room had been cramped and mostly filled with stuffed toys and the spare computer parts she hoarded. The Felicity standing in front of him had a more refined style. The loft was filled with muted tones, dark but light, a strange contradiction in the way that they seemed to meld so well together. A few canvas paintings were hung up on the walls near the stairs, pops of bright colour in a dimly lit room. Blue and green pillows in an assortment of shades filled her couch, an a grey shaggy rug was placed in front of the fireplace where another coffee table had magazines and files stacked on it.

“Well I’m not going to eat it all by myself!” Felicity replies, skipping over to the freezer and pulling out three tubs of ice cream. “We have mint chip, honeycomb and vanilla.”

“I’m gonna assume that you’re choosing mint chip, so I guess I’ll go vanilla,” Oliver replies, accepting the tub Felicity offers him. He knows how this works, it’s been happening for as long as he can remember. While Felicity claims her favourite flavour is mint chip, if she’s ever given the chance to steal anyone else’s, she does.

They sit on the lounge together, lapsing into silence while they eat.

“Do you wanna talk about it or are we just gonna awkwardly eat ice-cream and drink wine all night?” Felicity asks softly, setting her empty ice cream container to the side and shifting to face him. “Because this is what we do right? You have a problem, you bring me ice-cream or wine, and we talk. Although you’re usually drunk and I’m usually studying but I guess some things have changed.”

“Everything has changed,” he murmurs, unable to meet Felicity’s kind eyes. “I’ve changed, you’ve changed. You were still a teenager when I left and now you’re-”

“Blonde?” She blurts out.

“Other things as well,” Oliver tells her. “You seem more confident, more set in your beliefs. Five years ago, you would never have worn a dress as revealing as the one you wore to the auction the other night.”

“That’s what you’re basing your judgement on?  A dress?” She says, eyes widening in shock.

“It was a very nice dress,” he says. “Red has always been your colour.”

“Was it the colour or the fact that it was backless and showed cleavage,” Felicity retorts quickly. Her face goes red the instant the words are out of her mouth but she doesn’t apologise for it. Instead she simply takes another sip of wine.

“Like I said, it was a very nice dress,” Oliver replies. “And the Felicity Smoak of five years ago would never have worn something like that.”

“The Felicity Smoak of five years ago would never have had the confidence to pull that dress off, or the stamina to wear heels for as long as I did,” Felicity pauses, frowns and then a small smile creeps onto her face. “You tricked me into admitting that a dress could prove how I’ve changed, which in turn has proved how much you’ve changed.”

She raises her wine glass to him and he clinks hers in return.

“For the record, you also just showed me that maybe the things that have changed you haven’t all been for the bad,” Felicity raises her eyes to meet his again. “The Oliver Queen of five years ago would never have been that smooth.”

“Or maybe I just wouldn’t have been able to look someone in the eye as I told them the truth,” Oliver says.

“Smooth,” Felicity agrees, chugging the rest of the wine. They lapse into silence again, watching the flames from the fireplace flicker in lowly lit room. “More wine?”

“I should get going,” he tells her, moving to stand. “I’ve still got to drive home.”

“Or you could stay,” she says. “On the couch, or the spare room? Or the floor I don’t know, but you don’t have to leave. And you don’t want to waste this perfectly good bottle of wine on me.”

“If I thought that I would be wasting a bottle of wine I wouldn’t have brought it,” he replies.

“Again, smooth, but please just help me finish it, because otherwise I’m the one that has the god awful hangover,” Felicity almost begs. When he doesn’t reply straight away, she tightens her grip on his arm and pouts a little at him the way she always did whenever she wanted something.

Despite his better judgement he nods in agreement, laughing when Felicity claps her hands together.

“Can we watch the basketball game?” He asks carefully. “I’ve kind of missed watching sports.”

“Sure, the remote is the coffee table drawer,” she points in the general direction. He finds the remote and turns on the TV. They fall into silence as the monotone voice of the commentators lull his mind into a wine induced haze.

By the time the game is over Felicity is asleep at his side, her head cushioned on her arms and her feet tucked underneath his legs. She’d draped a blanket over them both sometime during the first quarter after they had finished the bottle of wine.

He carefully slips her glasses off her nose and placing them onto the coffee table. She snuffles a little in her sleep, but settles when he brushes a hand over her forehead. Once her breathing evens out again, he settles on the couch next to her, pulling the blanket back over them again. He flicks to another pre-recorded game and lets himself fall asleep as he absentmindedly traces patterns on her ankle.


	4. Chapter 4

“You need someone to remind you of who you are, not who you’re becoming,” the words ring through his head as Diggle holds out his hand for Oliver to shake. He hesitates for a moment, attempting to push away the thoughts of a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes who never failed to see the real him. But she isn’t what Diggle is talking about, or maybe she is, either way she can’t be involved with this life, _his_ life. It would be too dangerous. For both of them.

He ends his conversation with a handshake a silent agreement between the two.

And then, all hell breaks loose. Again.

“Oliver Queen,” he hears the familiar voice of Detective Lance booming through the foyer. Turning, he sees four cops and the two partners entering his house while Walter attempts to ward them off, anger radiating through his entire body as he places himself between the detectives and Oliver.

“You can’t just barge in here,” Walter tells Lance, furious. He pulls himself up to his full height, attempting to step between the detective and Oliver.

“Well I’ve got a badge and a gun that says differently,” Lance retorts pushing past him.

“What the hell is going on?” Oliver demands as he and Diggle join the disturbance. From the balcony he sees Thea rush out of her room, brown hair whipping around her face as her voice joins all the others.

“Oliver, what’s happening?” Thea calls to him before turning to Walter.

“Oliver Queen you’re under arrest on suspicion of obstruction of justice, aggravated assault, trespassing, acting as a vigilante and murder,” Lance tells him as the two other cops pull his hands behind his back and place the handcuffs on him.

He reminds himself that this is all part of the plan. Get arrested, prove them wrong, get released. Any and all suspicion of him being the Vigilante would go away and he would be free to peruse the double life without Lance hounding him for information.

“Are you out of your mind,” he hears himself yell at Lance. But it’s too late and the police are already dragging him out the front door. He turns his head slightly, unsurprised to find Thea beside Walter as he talks on his phone while his mother watches after him, tears in hair eyes and a hand covering her mouth.

This was the only way, he told himself as he was pushed into the police cruiser, although upon seeing his family’s faces he wasn’t so sure of that.

**

The night of Oliver’s arrest, she and Tommy hole themselves up in her apartment with import beer and pizza, watching the news repeat the same headline over and over again. It’s part of their tradition whenever something bad happens and they’re somehow involved. It happens more often than either of them would like to admit, although it has more to do with the fact that they’re minor celebrities in Starling and the media would rather concentrate on the exploits of billionaires than the struggle of those that live in the Glades.

Oliver gets on a boat with Sara and his father and ‘dies’? Beer and pizza time. Malcom does something that makes sense from a billionaire’s perspective but not from a struggling employee’s? Beer and pizza.

Felicity is almost one hundred percent sure that if she and Tommy hadn’t been invited to Oliver’s welcome home dinner they would have been sitting on the floor of her apartment drinking beer and eating pizza. But alas, their lives in the immediate aftermath of Oliver’s return had been less than normal and tradition had to be put on hold in order to attempt to stabilise their lives once more.

Briefly, she wonders how much alcohol she’s going to have to ply Tommy with to get him to open up about his kidnapping but decides against in favour of silence.

“I know Lance hates Ollie, but I didn’t think he’d hate him this much,” Tommy mumbles as they watch Lance’s press conference again. “Like this is totally a whole new level of hate. He could even be surpassing Malcom’s level of hate of our life choices.”

Felicity shrugs. “I think he’s projecting his grief. I mean to find out the guy who was dating your eldest daughter when he seduced your younger daughter into going on a deadly boat trip is alive and well must have been really hard for him. He’s probably just hoping to find an actual reason to hate Oliver.”

“I would have thought seducing someone’s daughter to her death would have been a good reason to be hateful,” Tommy replies frowning. He looks like he’s trying to figure out a maths equation, and Felicity can’t help the small groan that escapes her lips.

“Sara made the decision, Oliver didn’t tie her up-”

“I mean he probably did-”

“Oliver isn’t into that type of stuff-”

“You know, as the best friend of Oliver I feel like I should have more experience with his kinks than you-”

“I don’t think you’re his type-”

“And also how on earth do you know what type of stuff Oliver’s into? Something you’re-”

“Finish that sentence I _dare_ you-”

“- Not telling me about your relationship with him-”

“Tommy!-”

“Because Laurel did say that you went straight to his room the night of that auction thing when you almost got killed and I totally wouldn’t blame you if-”

“If I was screwing your best friend so you feel less guilty about screwing your best friends ex-girlfriend?-”

“Okay, but he cheated on her with her sister so I feel like Ollie can’t really be judging me too harshly for that-”

“Excuse me for thinking that there was some sort of bro code that you honoured-”

“And it’s not likes there’s nothing between you and Ollie, because I remember he was getting ready to go back to school because of you and I mean your puppy dog eyes are good but we both know that his obvious need to make you proud was what was really getting him back on the straight and narrow-”

“Okay enough!” Felicity exclaims finally, hurling a pillow into Tommy’s face. “The point of beer and pizza night is that we enjoy our beer and pizza in silence so we don’t let out judgey word vomit that gets into trouble.”

“Sure okay, maybe that’s true-”

“It is true, we literally have a contract-”

“Okay, but we were drunk-”

She rolls her eyes. “Coz that means so much in your life-”

“Felicity, just for one moment can you stop doing laps around me and instead just answer my question honestly.”

She refuses to meet his eyes. Her biggest rule when it comes to her and Tommy’s relationship is honesty is the best policy. But she finds it incredibly hard to be honest with her brother when she doesn’t even know the truth of her relationship with Oliver herself. On the one hand, they’ve always loved each other as friends. On the other hand things have _changed_ and they aren’t the people they were before he was lost at sea and they probably won’t ever be the same again.

Of course, five years ago, she _had_ been part of the reason Oliver decided to go back to school, if only to finish his business degree. She had, rather harshly pulled him back on to the straight and narrow. And it was no lie that thirteen-year-old Felicity had a little crush on her older brothers’ best friend.

But he wasn’t the same person who had called her five minutes after getting on the Gambit, apologising for his most recent screwup but that he still thought Cooper was a bad guy to be dating. She wasn’t the same black-haired girl that had angrily told him to get over himself.

“Oliver needed a person to talk to and I volunteered. It’s as simple as that really,” she finally says, glancing at Tommy out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t read too much into anything okay, he slept on the couch the night I stayed at the mansion.”

Tommy’s eyebrows skyrocket just as she registers the words that have come out of her mouth.

_Crap._

“So,” Tommy begins trying to formulate his words. “To be clear, you have a room in the mansion.”

She doesn’t reply, busying herself with pouring another glass of wine. In hindsight, mixing her drinks may just get her into more trouble.

“I also have room in the mansion.”

She shrugs. It’s true that at some stage in their parents travelling so much, Moira had set them both up with rooms that could be used at any time. It had been the nicest thing the woman had ever done for her.

“And you’re telling me that you slept in Oliver’s room. And he slept on the couch.”

“Something like that.” She downs her wine in a gulp.

The thing is, she can’t give Tommy the answer he wants because she doesn’t actually know where Oliver ended up sleeping when she’d stayed over. She’d assumed the couch because there had been a blanket from his bed thrown over the back of it but both sides of the bed had been rumpled and she tended to sleep like a log.

“And you’re telling me that nothing has been going on between you.”

She shrugs again. “The three of us have been friends for almost twenty years, Tommy. I guess we’re both just trying to figure out what our new normal is after five years.”

Silence falls between them as Tommy studies her carefully. “I just don’t want this ‘new normal’ to end up hurting you, Felicity.”

**

“Did you find something,” Walter asks her as they step into his home office. She’s assaulted with memories of her childhood, when she, Oliver and Tommy would play hide and seek and she’d lose track of time attempting to read all the books Robert kept on the shelves.

“It’s a warehouse in the Glades, I don’t know what’s in it, I don’t know how it’s connected to the company but this is where at least a portion of that missing money went that Moira’s saying was used for an investment.” She hands over the piece of paper she’d scribbled an address on. “I also have the history of the transactions as the money was essentially laundered through a bunch of different offshore accounts. Personally I’m not a numbers or accounting girl, so I figured you’d be able to make more sense of it.” She hands him a manila file, feeling like a certain weight had lifted from her chest.

Walter nods, flipping through the various documents. “Keep this between us.”

“Of course,” she agrees. “I’ll keep digging to see if I can find some more connections, if you’d like.”

Walter contemplates her words for a moment before he nods his head in consent. “Yes, thank you Felicity, and thank you for being discrete.”

“Mysteries need to be solved,” she tells him softly, repeating words she’s been saying for years. “And this seems to be quite the mystery on our hands.”

**

“I heard they wanted you to take a plea of insanity,” she says softly, shutting the bedroom door behind her and moving further into the room. “Everything okay with Laurel?” He turns at her words, confusion written across his face. “I saw her run out crying.”

She can basically see the gears grinding in his head before he turns around to face her completely. “She wanted to talk about my polygraph results.”

“How did that go?”

“It was fine.” His face says otherwise. By the immediate look of guilt on his face when she cottons onto the fact that she doesn’t believe him. Good. That’s what he got for lying to her again.

“Are we going to have an actual conversation with me, or are half-truths and maybes the only way we can talk now?” She replies, taking two more steps towards Oliver. He searches her face for something before staring down at his hands which are doing the nervous tick he seems to have developed since he came home. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Like why you’ve been avoiding me?” He retorts, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl across his face. “Because you haven’t spoken to me since I was arrested.”

“I’ve had a lot going on with work.” It’s not a lie. She has been busy, and he has been under house arrest. “Besides I figured it would be best to give you your space, all things considered.”

Oliver scrubs a hand over his face in frustration, turning away from her again. “Laurel wanted to see my scars.” She balks at the sudden change in subject and tone of conversation but nods her head simply, an effort to keep him talking. “When I took the polygraph, I had to tell them I was tortured on the island.” He pauses to study her for a moment before continuing. “She came by and wanted to talk to me about it.”

 _And talking is something you don’t like to do._ The thought is left unsaid, but it hangs in the air between them. She moves towards the couch, grabbing her favourite blanket off the back of it and wrapping it around her shoulders to keep the chill away. Thea hadn’t taken into consideration the Starling chill that often settled in on the nights leading into winter when she’d been putting together Felicity’s outfit for the night.

“You didn’t talk, did you?”

“I couldn’t.” At her raised eyebrows he rolls his eyes slightly and continues. “I didn’t want her to know how damaged up I am.”

She knows this Oliver. She can handle this Oliver. This Oliver was the same boy who filled her room at the mansion with nightlights after she’d had a nightmare. This Oliver was the one she’d found on her doorstep with a bottle of scotch, telling her he’d gotten a girl pregnant and that she’d lost the baby. This was the Oliver that never wanted anyone to see him as anything but a billionaire playboy.

Oliver being honest about his feelings rarely happened, and she had learned to listen closely, since his words often hid the true state of his feelings.

“I think by not opening up you’re doing a fairly good job of that anyway,” she tells him softly. “Your scars are just a physical representation of your emotional scars.”

“You think I’m emotionally scared?” He steps into her personal space, challenging her with the same half-smirk he wore when he was trying to get something he wanted.

Standing to meet his gaze she glares up at him. “You just told me you thought of yourself as damaged. If that doesn’t scream ‘emotionally scarred’ I don’t know what else would.”

Oliver goes to reply, but a knock at the door interrupts him.

Purely out of habit she turns her back on Oliver and goes to open the door, but the moment it clicks open, the person behind the door slams it into her, causing her to stumble back into the bookshelf. She crumples to the ground as her vision blurs and her head starts pounding. She sees movement somewhere in front of her, but her eyes are suddenly so heavy that they slip shut as two loud bangs break through her waning consciousness.

**

It turns out he’s in luck. His mother and Walter are both in bed by the time he gets back from the foundry. Most of the house is quiet, and dimly lit, the police having cleared out hours ago. Making his way up the stairs towards his room, he notices the light underneath Felicity’s room and corrects course.

“How are you feeling,” he asks, pushing the door open to see Felicity sitting up in bed, pillows surrounding her completely. The TV is on, low and humming in the background but without her glasses he knows she’s only been listening. At the sound of his voice, she glances over to the door, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“Like I got body slammed into a bookshelf.” She groans a little, indicating to her temple where two butterfly stitches sit. She shuffles a little so she’s not lying in the middle of the bed. “If I’ve had a long night, then you’ve definitely had a longer one.” The invitation is open ended, but there’s a part of him that doesn’t want to be this far away from her.

He takes a seat next to her hand, leaning his head back against the headboard with a sigh. His entire body relaxes the moment his back hits the mattress. It’s almost as if he’s weightless. “I forgot you had the best bed in the house.”

“Hmmm,” Felicity replies, curling herself under the covers more. “It took me forever to find this stupid mattress.”

“Worth it though,” he says softly. “And I was the one who had to spend three weeks looking for not one but three mattresses for you.”

She chuckles a little. “The idle rich are hard to entertain, isn’t that what you always tell me?” She’s not wrong. For every disapproving look she’d given him and Tommy when they were younger, he’d simply smirk and come up with some reason or another to carry on the shenanigans.

He rolls his eyes before studying her closer. With no makeup, the bags underneath her eyes were more pronounced but she also looked younger than he’d seen her since he’d gotten back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nods slightly but winces when she moves a little too much. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were bruises that resembled his bookshelf across her back with how hard she’d hit it.  “A little sore.” She admits. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. How are you? You’re the one that actually did get into a fight.”

“I’m fine.” He tells her, pasting a charming smile on his face. And he is, possibly for the first time since he got back.

“Right.” She frowns at him. “Can we not do the lying thing? At least not tonight?”

“I’m not lying,” he tells her sincerely. He can feel the adrenaline slowly wearing off and his muscles start to twinge in protest. “I spent five years on an island, this was nothing.”

She hums softly, as her body relaxes into the bed further. “We were talking about the island before we were so rudely interrupted, weren’t we?”

“Yeah. You were saying I’m emotionally scarred,” he tells her. “I still take offence to that.”

“You don’t have to pretend Oliver. You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with either. Just don’t pretend for the sake of my feelings, or because you feel like you should be ashamed of yours.” They’ve always been open books to each other. Somehow seeing things about the other that the rest of the world couldn’t. It was what bound them together as kids and teenagers. Where Tommy was filled with an endless optimism, both he and Felicity had always seen the different shades of grey the world was coloured with. But where he struggled with his knowledge, Felicity actively fought to understand it, never once flinching against the harsh realities of this life.  

“I have a scar.”

“No, you don’t.” In all of their escapades as children, not once had she sustained a wound that had left a scare.

“Yeah, I do,” she says petulantly. “On my tummy, underneath my boob, almost hit a lung.”

His eyes widen considerably at her words. “How?”

“Car accident, windscreen shattered, and I got a belly full. Everything else healed up nicely, that one though, just didn’t want to cooperate,” she tells him, turning on her side so that she’s facing him, head propped up on a pillow. “It was part of the reason I came back to Starling. I didn’t want the guilt to kill Tommy. Or for Malcom and Tommy to keep fighting.”

“Tommy was driving?”

“It was just after the third anniversary of your death,” she says softly, placing her hand over his clenched fist. “He thought he found you alive in Hong Kong, so he did this whole trip thing and he was kidnapped and when he came back it was almost like he’d lost you all over again. So, he drank away his problems and wanted to go driving-”

“He was driving drunk?” Oliver exclaims.

Felicity shakes her head. “Hungover, more like. He was completely sober though, but we were going around that corner on the way out of Starling, you know the one you almost crashed the Maserati? Anyway it was raining and foggy and this truck came out of nowhere and bam, two weeks in hospital _and_ it was bad enough that Malcom came back from wherever he was hiding.”

“Was Tommy okay?”

Felicity nods. “Broken arm and dislocated shoulder.”

“You two were lucky.”

“Says the guy that came back from the dead.”

He chuckles at that. “Are you trying to make me realise that scars aren’t all bad?”

“Maybe?” She closes her eyes. “Is it working.”

“Not really.”

She grips his hand tighter. “You don’t have to tell me, you don’t have to tell anyone, you could just tell yourself when you’re having a shower or looking in the mirror or whatever. But one day, maybe soon, or maybe not you’ll look at one of those scars and you’ll realise you’re stronger for having been through those things.”

“What if the strength that I’ve gained turned me into a terrible person?” He doesn’t mean to ask, but the words are out before he can reel them back in.

“Are you still Oliver Queen?” She asks softly, tiredness seeping into her voice. He nods. “Then I think you’re fine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’re sitting here with me, making sure I’m okay. Because after everything that has happened to you, you came home when you could have just as easily run.”

He smiles down at her before lying down beside her, hand still encased in hers. He thinks over her words as she slowly slips to sleep. “I was bitten by a shark.” He tells her softly.

Her eyes fly open and she gasps in surprise. Felicity attempts to pull away from him, but he readjusts the hold she has on his hand so that he’s gripping hers. “You were bitten by a shark?”

“Yeah. I was trying free diving.” The shark bite is the easiest to explain, mostly because it’s so glaringly obvious and also because he can’t exactly lie when he tells her the story behind it.

“You don’t even like swimming?” She says, her voice wavering slightly, possibly more from shock than anything else. “And why would you try free diving if you don’t like swimming?”

“I was on an island and there was water, a lot of water. I got over my hatred of swimming fairly easily,” he reminds her laughing. “Do you want to see it?”

She nods slowly, leaning back up on her hand. “Only if you want to show me, I don’t want to pressure you or anything especially since you were so hesitant to show Laurel-”

“I want to,” he assures her. He lifts the bottom of his shirt up so she can see the scar. “I had to sew it up myself with some old fishing wire,” he points to a few points around the scar. “That’s what those scars are from.”

He studies Felicity as she studies his scar. Her blue eyes are wide and the hand that had been gripped in his slips out of his so she can trace over it with her index finger. The scar has faded in the years since he got it but there are still bumps and dents in his skin from his bad needlework. As her finger traces down the scar towards his waistband, Oliver tries his very best to ignore the tingling sensation she leaves behind in her wake. Why he thought this was the smartest thing to do, he has no idea. He just knows that after everything that had happened over the last few days, he wanted to share something with her, something more of himself with the one person who gave out her heart and warmth so easily.

“I don’t _know_ what I thought a shark bite scar would feel like, but this isn’t it,” she murmurs her hand stilling on his abdomen. “This is going to be a silly question and please, feel free to roll your eyes and scoff but did it _hurt_?”

He shrugs his shoulders, leaning back against the pillows again, interlocking his hands behind his head as he tries to remember. “I was kind of in shock, so I don’t really remember.”

“Shock,” Felicity repeats, as if rolling the words around on her tongue. “Nature’s painkillers.”

He chuckles at her description. “Don’t know how I would have survived without it.”

She shuffles next to him, wriggling out from underneath the blankets. Once her legs are free she lifts up her singlet top. When he looks down he sees the scarred skin, jagged in shape and about five inches long. His fingers twitch by his side, overcome with the sudden urge to trace her scar the same way she traced his. Felicity’s eyes bore into his, though he refuses to meet them as he studies her scar further.

“You can touch it if you want,” she tells him softly. When he doesn’t respond immediately she simply grabs his wrist and places it on her torso. “I’m not made of glass, the scar won’t magically reopen into a gaping wound and I won’t bleed out in front of you so, get over whatever complex you have or so help me god.”

He runs his index finger over the scar, in much the same way she had earlier, feeling the bumps and the ridges of it, although hers had healed better than his. “It looks good.” He pulls his hand away and lets it fall in the space between them.

“It’s amazing what modern medicine can achieve.” She’s trying to make her tone light but he can hear the emotion clouding her voice. “It twinges at night, when it rains sometimes. I’m not sure if it’s psychological or like an actual thing but it happens occasionally which is great when you’re living in a place where it constantly rains.”

“Better or worse than Boston?”

“Better.”

“No question?”

Felicity turns on her side again, though she stays lying down this time. “I don’t have the fondest memories of Boston.”

“You loved it there,” he reminds her, thinking back to all the phone calls they’d traded, and later hand-written letters when she’d decided she shouldn’t spend as much time as she did around technology. “You bragged about it for years. How much fun it was to have definite seasons and how you loved the snow and the summer.”

“And then I didn’t.” Her statement is blunt and her tone indicates that the conversation is over. He doesn’t push her in the same way she doesn’t push him and they lapse into silence.

He’s jolted back to reality by a snore. “Felicity,” he murmurs, shoving her shoulder lightly. She bats his hand away with a grunt before her eyes fly open and she bolts up in bed.

“I wasn’t sleeping I swear,” she’s gulping down breaths and her face flushes the most he’s seen it in years.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you startled me is all.” Felicity sits up again, turning the brightness in the room up more. “Seeing as that I can’t sleep and you don’t sleep ever, we should continue your TV catch up.”

“Felicity,” he murmurs, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “You’ve seen the scars. You know I don’t sleep or eat. You’ve seen me with people, with friends. I’m damaged goods.”

She shakes her head resolutely. “I know that I can’t talk you out of this terrible mindset, but one day, probably sooner than you think, you’ll see yourself the way I see you.”

“And what way is that?”

She shrugs. “Well I’m not going to tell you because it’ll make the realisation a lot less meaningful.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you guys like my latest venture into straying from canon! What can I say, I've just always loved the Tommy and Felicity dynamic and my imagination always runs away from me. 
> 
> I've also decided that I need to tweet more so, I'll be posting status updates on each of my WIP's on my twitter so chuck me a follow if you're interested, or even if you just wanna chat or something, my twitter name is jasminemai14


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